


Spitfire

by Princesszellie



Series: Prompts and Drabbles [15]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, M/M, WW2 setting, chaleigh, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princesszellie/pseuds/Princesszellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the heat of World War II, Raleigh Becket's platoon is stationed on the edge of the front lines. Chuck Hansen is a crack shot pilot in the RAAF. Their paths cross in an explosive (literally!) way, with more then just the literal sparks flying. </p><p>WWII AU Prompt</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spitfire

It was a quiet night for Raleigh Becket’s platoon. So far not even the far away glimmer of a watch fire in the distance. The front was quiet; on the ground at least.

About every fifteen minutes or so a plane of some sort would go roaring over, making the well hidden men crouch down lower in their cover. It was too dark to tell which side they belonged to, so it was better to hide and keep one’s head then to risk drawing airborne fire.

Raleigh found it easy to ignore the roar of engines above his head; he was too tired to care what the flying devils were up to. As long as his unit didn’t have to move he didn’t give a shit. He had a good comfortable spot, with his back up against a tree and wrapped in his jacket he was fairly warm. It wasn’t as damp a night as it usually was out in the countryside and at least they hadn’t ended up in mud again tonight.

His eyes were sliding shut, and the shadowy state of rest that all soldiers learned to keep was starting to set in despite the thunder of two planes going over head. The trees whipped in the wind created by their unusual close proximity and he jumped in surprise as the two exchanged fire.

“Shit!” someone nearby in the bushes exclaimed and they all ducked for cover once again. So much for a nap. They could follow the progress of the two combatants by the bullet trails and as the two planes continued their dog fight above them it became clear they were out for blood and this was not a part of the routine fly overs.

Several times the planes swooped close, just to gain altitude and take the fight elsewhere. It was definitely a duel to the death. For a while the combatants were out of their visible range leaving only the staccato echo and smell of gun powder hanging in the air, and the men began to stand down. Just as Raleigh got comfortable againthe damn things roared back into their quadrant and the sky lit up in the most tremendous fireball he had ever seen.

There as a clear winner to the fight after all! And since they had no idea which sides had been involved it was hard to declare weather it was a win for the home team or not. The earth shook under them as metal and explosives hit ground somewhere closer than the Commanding Officer should like.

Raleigh volunteered for the scouting party, he had given up on sleep now anyway, and since the wreck would undoubtedly be only a few clicks away what was the harm in passing the cold dark night in activity? It beat literally waiting to die in the bushes.

The small group set out, at first keeping close together, but as signs of the crash didn’t appear as quickly as they thought they began to fan out. Raleigh had his head down watching where his feet were going so as not to break his ankle in the ink pitch that surrounded them, and didn’t realize he had strayed from his position in the line.

As he moved silently through the undergrowth he realized it was getting easier to see, and without warning he broke into a clearing and was blinded. “Fuck!” he cursed as the raging fire ruined his night vision entirely and made his eyes water. He had found the wreck.

Shielding his eyes from the glare Raleigh approached cautiously, pistol drawn. The fire was dying down but he was still not going to get too close as he could still smell fuel in the air. His approach was from the rear of the plane, or what was left of it anyway, and as he turned his head he caught the flag painted on the tail. At first it looked like a British flag, good an Ally, but as he got up close it realized it wasn’t. It was Australian, RAAF, which struck him as odd as this locale seemed to be out of their assigned range.

Ignoring the heat coming off in waves from the smoldering wreckage, Raleigh headed for the cockpit. He didn’t expect there to be a survivor, this was a total blow out if he ever saw one, but he dropped to his hands and knees anyway to peer into the shattered, mangled mess.

It was smoky and dark and impossible to see, so he stuck his face in farther. The ice cold click of a revolver being cocked made his heart stop beating before he even saw it pointed at the tip of his nose.

Raleigh’s hands came up in a gesture of surrender. “Easy now…”

“Declare….” The faceless voice holding him hostage demanded.

“American. 102st Ground Division. Allies.” Raleigh rattled off. He could see now that the hand holding the gun was shaking badly. “Let me help you.” He reached for the wavering gun, and gently took it from the other man’s blood soaked fingers.

The pilot let it go without a fight, he had bigger problems. “My leg’s kinda stuck.” He told his rescuer.

“Okay, hang on…” Raleigh began pulling on the frame of the cockpit, but yelped in surprise as the hot metal burned his hands. That wasn’t going to work. He got back down on the ground and wiggled in to the enclosed space so he could get a better look.

This time he found himself face to face with a person, a very agitated hostile looking person. “Hi. Names Raleigh Becket.”

“That’s nice mate….” The Australian snapped, and then deciding that being a little gracious might get him free before the forward fuel line caught fire added, “Charlie Hansen.”

“Nice to meet you Chuck. Show me where you’re caught.” Raleigh too could smell gas fumes and knew their time was short. There was also a fair amount of blood splattered around, looking like black paint in the fire light, which meant the other man might bleed out before the impending explosion anyway.

Charlie pointed down towards his right leg, which was pinned all the way to his hip beneath a section of the wing that had been driven in by an equally large branch from a tree the plane clipped on its way down. Raleigh squirmed in further and Charlie gasped in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…hang on a second….”

The pilot wasn’t sure he could ‘hang on a second’ as his vision started to tunnel and it got harder to breathe. The pain was intense, more intense then the heat of his long fall back to earth had been. “Please hurry…” he panted.

“I think I can get it.” Raleigh wormed backwards out of the cockpit and scrambled up the shredded wing. “Okay, on the count of three I’m gonna pull, you push and work yourself loose.”

“Right.” Charlie said, bracing himself to leverage against the mass holding him in what was very likely going to be his funeral pyre. “Go for Christ’s sake!”

“One…two…three...” the Yankee counted off and heaved. Charlie felt some movement, which he thought at first was wishful thinking….but no, it really was moving. With what was left of his strength he pushed at the shattered remains of what had once been his pride and joy, but now was a death trap.

Oh god…it hurt so bad! The darkness rushed back in on Charlie, leaving him to fight on two fronts. He wasn’t going to make it, this was how he was going to die. Ugh, the stupid American was yelling something outside but he couldn’t make heads of it. Suddenly and unexpectedly the vice on his leg let go, and the yapping from the other side increased in volume.

Gathering energy for one last ditch attempt to survive this chaos, Charlie rolled free and tucked his legs to his chest. “Clear!” he shouted. Instantly he was showered with sparks and leaves as his rescuer let go of the mess from his end.  

Raleigh scrambled down from his precarious perch. As he half slid, half jumped off the aluminum he noticed that the fire in the engine compartment had rekindled and was spreading quickly towards the cockpit. He hit the ground and crawled back into where the Australian still was. “Is it broken?” he asked breathlessly.

“I…I don’t think so…” Charlie coughed, starting to choke on the greasy black smoke.

Things were starting to _snap_ and _pop_ in the increasing heat, and Raleigh realized they were out of time. Chuck was panting hard; clearly their last efforts had drained him. There was a lot more blood pooling around too.

“Just…just go mate. No reason we both have to die…” Charlie said evenly. He just met this fool Yank, but there was no good reason his heroics should cost him his life. This was his mess; he should be the only one to die for his willful act. He snorted; wouldn’t his Father just love this irony?

“Don’t be stupid!” Raleigh stared at him aghast, “Give me your hand…come on….” There was a loud _crack_ above them that sent embers raining down on their heads.

Charlie gave him a despairing look, clearly this one was mental, but offered his blood slicked hand. Raleigh began pulling carefully at first, but as things started to get hotter and smokier, figured pain was the least of their problems and really began hauling on the other man’s arm. The pain _was_ a problem for Charlie; it was everywhere and all consuming, just like the fire was going to be if he didn’t get the hell out of here.

One final rally and he would be free…He gripped Raleigh’s forearm, digging his nails into the rough fabric of his jacket. Lieutenant Charles Hansen grit his teeth and with one last desperate effort wormed his way free of the safety harness and the rubble of his poor decisions.

When he was in a better position, Raleigh grabbed him beneath the armpits and hauled him free. Pain ripped down Charlie’s side and he couldn’t bite back a scream as he was reborn into cool air and damp grass. Together they tumbled in a mass of arms and legs, and Raleigh barked out a laugh of triumph that was glaringly out of place in the red orange glow of their impending doom.

Chuck’s face was inches from his own as Raleigh grinned stupidly up into a pair of scared and very confused green eyes. This would be very lovely under very different circumstances, but as it were, the very large gash on the pilot’s head dripped blood down on to his face reiterating the gravity of their situation.

A high pitched whining sound filled the air around them. Charlie’s head snapped up and he looked back over his shoulder; the fire had found the fuel lines at last. “We have to go _now_!”

Raleigh snapped out of his reverie, “Right.” He scrambled to his feet and hauled Chuck up beside him. “Can you walk?” It was a stupid (and ignored) question, because broken leg or not the other man was now practically dragging him toward the tree line.

They weren’t going to make it, Charlie thought as his limp become more pronounced, they would never make a safe distance…

A roar, a searing blinding flash that sent them flying into the underbrush, pain and darkness. Raleigh hit the ground with a jarring impact that knocked the wind from his lungs; dirt filled his mouth and ringing his ears. He counted disjointedly to sixty. The heat that had enveloped them dissipated quickly and Raleigh dared to raise his head. Shit. They actually survived!

Well…he had anyway. Carefully he sat up, sore all over, but in way better shape than Chuck Hansen appeared to be in.

Charlie regained consciousness slowly, unsure of everything except the throbbing pain, his eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” Raleigh said softly, cradling the Australian in his arms. As the other man came to, he struggled to sit up. “Take it easy buddy…easy now…” He assisted him as best he could.

Upright now, Charlie could breathe more easily and his thoughts started to clear. He stared at the now fully engulfed carcass of his beloved plane and he was suddenly filled with inexplicable sadness.

Raleigh watched his companion carefully as he clearly descended into shock. Gently Raleigh placed his jacket around Charlie’s shoulders. “Hey….what’s the damage?”

His voice seemed to pull the Australian out of his fog. “Huh?”

“Where are you hurt?” Raleigh repeated, “You’re bleeding everywhere….”

Charlie snorted and was surprised by how much that hurt. He checked into that first. “Well…looks like I got tagged….twice…” he probed the two bullet holes in his shirt and found two matching holes in his side. Raleigh watched the process with a mix of admiration and horror. “I don’t think my whole leg is broken, but its super painful…and my head is killing me….”

The accent made these assessments almost comical, but the kid was losing a lot of blood fast. Chuck started to sway dangerously and Raleigh reached out for him. “Take it easy flyboy…relax…” A stupid thing to say really, “That explosion will bring the rest of my unit…help will be here soon.”

Oh how Charlie wanted to believe that! He let the soldier pull him close and he huddled for warmth. It was hard to keep his eyes open. “Stay with me Chuck…stay awake.” Raleigh babbled at him.

“Why…why do you keep calling me that?” Charlie frowned. It was irritating that this stupid American couldn’t remember his name or say it right.

Raleigh laughed one of his inappropriate laughs again, “That’s your name stupid. Charlie’s go by ‘Chuck’ in the States.”

Charlie made a face at him, “That is stupid.”

More laughter from the deranged Yankee. Ugh. This whole situation was stupid. Charlie couldn’t hold his head up any more and let it drop back on Raleigh’s shoulder. “What kind of a name is _Raleigh_.”

The way Chuck said it, holding out the ‘ah’ sound too long made Raleigh smile. Adorable little Aussie. “Well….ugh...it’s the name of a city?”

This time it was Charlie’s turn to laugh, and it was worth the pain. “God you Yankees are fuckin’ weird mate….wow. Named after a city.” His mocking laugh ended in a bubbling cough.

“Shut up.” Raleigh growled, almost affectionately. If this snotty flyboy survived two bullets to the gut he was looking forward to kicking his ass.

They sat in silence for a few minutes watching the smoldering hulk burn out. He was getting so cold and couldn’t control his shivering, but something much more pressing was bothering him. “Are you from Raleigh?” Chuck asked softly, his voice coming from right beside Raleigh’s ear.

“Nope. I’ve never even been there.” Raleigh answered sheepishly. “I’m from the opposite side of the country actually…I haven’t even been on the same coast.”

“That is fucked up mate….” Charlie mumbled.

“Yeah, a little. When this stupid war’s over I’ll take you there, so we can both say we’ve been…” Raleigh had _no_ idea why that came popping out of his mouth. It seemed so out of sync with their current reality. God, he had just met this guy…now he was making them plans for the end of a war that might never come and that neither of them might survive. Hell, Chuck might not make sunrise. He never did have good timing….

“Works for me.” Chuck answered. He was smiling, but he was certain Raleigh couldn’t see it in the dark. He might have blushed if his body could have spared the blood.

There were the soft sounds of men moving in the forest nearby; the rescue party had found the blast site at last. They might make it out of here after all.

“Thank you Raleigh….”

The whispered words took Raleigh by surprise, “For what?”

Chuck rolled his eyes, _that_ he clearly saw even in the dark. “For saving me back there.”

“Eh. Don’t mention it. Someday you might have to return the favor.”

They sat in companionable silence and waited for help to arrive. These two men, from different continents, had been brought together in the greatest conflict in history and were now bound by blood and shared trial for life. Neither of them doubted that their unlikely friendship would extend past this fire filled evening; and maybe someday they would be able to take Raleigh’s hair brained trip to visit his namesake city. After tonight’s adventure anything seemed possible- even a bright war free future.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap. 
> 
> This was a HUGE departure from my normal fare and waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay longer then I set out to do. Not at all sure wtf I was doing. I def don't like the ending. But eh, it was good exercise right? 
> 
> I think someone a while ago sent me a WW2 theme as a prompt...so HERE IT IS!!! Once this bunny grabbed me it did not want to let go. 
> 
> now back to our regularly scheduled Emo!teens and Hansen drama. (I legit have like 6 things started because I am an awful person)
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed this dog leg.


End file.
